


Sparkles

by ALWrites, bottomchanyeol



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Excessive Drinking, Humor, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 13:06:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16975131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALWrites/pseuds/ALWrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomchanyeol/pseuds/bottomchanyeol
Summary: This guy is the hottest guy Chanyeol’s ever seen. Toned physique. A sweet face. Soothing voice. In summary, he’s the whole damn package. Chanyeol wants that package.- This fanwork was written for round 2 of the bottom!Chanyeol fest [2018/19].





	Sparkles

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I hope everyone enjoys this fic! This was my first time writing a fic of this genre with this pairing but I think it turned out okay! It probably could have done with a couple hours extra work but the things I obsess over in writing are things that no one else ever tends to notice anyways so I think we’re good here. I’m also praying that the smut lives up to the expectations! It probably doesn’t follow what you originally wanted from the prompt but we still have the same end destination. **I just want to say that the smut is explicitly consensual and happens when both parties are 100% sober** if anyone was worried about that from the warnings! Not sure how this fic ended up so long but I still hope it’s a good read for you all! Thank you to my wonderful betas E and L! Thank you to the prompter for the prompt! And thank you to the mods for running this fest! <3

Junmyeon has always been in Chanyeol’s life. On his first day of nursery, Chanyeol was approached by a kid named Jongin and asked if he wanted to be best friends. Chanyeol said yes. Jongin was a gentle child, one who never threw his toys against the wall or made them do anything violent. The kind of kid who spent hours making a kingdom in the sandpit instead of splattering paint all over the carpet. The two of them probably weren’t the best match considering. Chanyeol was clumsy – so clumsy in fact that the teacher often joked he had four left feet. Being only three years old, Chanyeol didn’t really understand what that meant yet. It hit him about a decade later when he was reminiscing, going through an old scrapbook, and damn, his teacher wasn’t wrong.

Chanyeol has always been somewhat of a klutz. A fumbler. The kind of kid who could break something just by looking at it. He actually thought that happened once. He was in Jongin’s house watching a movie – because despite the many times Chanyeol accidentally demolished his Lego sculptures of Star Wars AT-ATs and stepped on his Hot Wheels set-up, they somehow managed to remain friends. All he’d done was look at the clock on the wall to check the time when it suddenly fell off its hook and smashed on the floor. Chanyeol almost started crying until he realised they were actually having a small 2.6 magnitude earthquake. Then he cried because he was scared.

This trait followed him into primary school, high school, even college. He always broke his pencil led, caused his team to lose in PE (butterfingers alert), and even fell over in an achievement assembly when he had to get up in front of the whole school to receive a certificate. There was a running joke for a while that Chanyeol was a walking hazard. He took in all in stride, until he tripped over nothing. He felt it was a part of his character, and because he very rarely frustrated people with his initial mishaps, it helped him to make friends. After all, doing something that made everyone laugh was a great conversation starter and confidence boost.

However, the one place Chanyeol never really wanted this trait to follow him was into his love life. It took several dates and college parties for Chanyeol to realise that clumsy and confident didn’t always go so well together. He spilled drinks, stumbled over his words, and once on a romantic meal he even tripped up a waiter holding a full tray of food when he was making his way to the toilet. It put people off him. The type of guys he dated never liked being the centre of attention in a room full of strangers. Chanyeol was the equivalent of a blinking neon sign in the shape of a traffic cone, the words ‘Watch this space for shits and giggles’ plastered on his forehead. He could never be romantic. At least not in the way his dates wanted him to be.

But none of that mattered anymore.

Junmyeon, Jongin’s older brother, has always been a face he’s known. A voice he’s recognized. A name he’s remembered. When Chanyeol was growing up and hanging out at Jongin’s house after school, Junmyeon was always kind of nerdy and quiet. He wore thick-rimmed glasses that made his eyes look bigger and polo necks that looked like they were strangling him; it was as though he was in a relationship with his top buttons and he could never break up with them.

They never spoke much. Junmyeon was reserved and Chanyeol was kind of intimidated because _that’s Jongin’s big brother_ and _what if he gets mad at him?_   Nevertheless, Junmyeon was always very kind. Whenever Chanyeol went over and Junmyeon was the one to answer the door, he smiled and spoke to him politely. He even made pleasant small talk on the occasions when Jongin was still getting ready or preoccupied on the toilet.

Chanyeol admired him a lot. He didn’t have his own older sibling on par with Junmyeon to look up to (sorry Yoora), so in a way, he was his idol. Junmyeon was smart and did well in school. He was even the head boy. And when he went off to university, Chanyeol was sad. He was confused about it for a while. Why was he sad? It wasn’t like he missed Junmyeon. Right?

He went through the rest of high school without seeing him. With Junmyeon being five years older, he was already an adult and had his own place near his alma mater two hours away. He didn’t have time to visit Jongin and his parents on the weekends anymore, and when he was back home, Jongin never invited Chanyeol over because they were busy having ‘family time’. Chanyeol understood completely, but he was also a little jealous, even if he couldn’t explain why.

Chanyeol went to community college and stayed local. By the time he was twenty-one and about to graduate, Junmyeon was twenty-six and already had his life figured out. He probably had a good house, a steady partner, a decent job with frequent pay rises because he’s _just that good._ There was no way Chanyeol would ever get to see him again. Or so he thought.

*

 “Fifi the ladybird was surprised! What was Miss Butterfly doing in her house? She opened the front door and said, ‘Excuse me, Miss Butterfly. Can I help you?’

 “Miss Butterfly turned around and smiled. ‘Fifi!’ she cried. ‘I’ve found your handbag!’

 “And it was true. There, in Miss Butterfly’s hand, was Fifi’s handbag. After all the hours she had spent looking for it, Fifi let out a sigh of relief. Finally, she had her handbag back. The end.”

Chanyeol closes the book, bored as hell. His little sister giggles and strokes the front cover – a picture of Fifi the ladybird by her treehouse home – feeling all the different textures used for the grass, the trunk and that beloved handbag.

 “Will I have a handbag one day?” she asks excitedly.

Chanyeol sighs. His back hurts. His neck hurts. His legs hurt. This bed used to be his. How on earth did he ever sleep here when it’s so short?

 “Probably,” he grunts. “Don’t you feel tired yet?”

Misun grins triumphantly at him. “Nope!” She says it like it’s something to be proud of. Chanyeol kind of wants to knock her out with something. If only he had a handbag of his own.

 “Well,” he says, starting to sit up and turn on the big-brother-voice. “It’s getting late and I’ve got to go out now. Jongin’s going to be here any minute.”

Misun instantly starts pouting. From her top bedside drawer, she reveals another hardback children’s book with a kitten on the front. “But what about ‘Fifi’s trip with Mog’?”

Chanyeol gently eases it out of her stubby fingers and places it on the nightstand. “Another time, okay?” he asks. “I promise I’ll read it to you another day.”

She crosses her arms, so unbelievably cute in her unicorn pyjamas. “When?”

Chanyeol pauses awkwardly, midway between standing up and sitting down. “Um, tomorrow?” He doesn’t know if Misun is aware of what hesitance looks like, but her following glare proves she knows he’s being just a tad dishonest. Chanyeol feels bad. One look at her and he’d gladly spend all his money on nail polish and mermaid Barbies.

 “Listen.” He sits down on the bed and pulls her into his lap. Either he’s too big or she’s too small, he hasn’t worked it out yet, but as it stands, she’s the perfect size to wrap up in his arms. “I just graduated college, okay? And that’s a big deal. It’s the start of summer. I don’t start my job until September. So I gotta live it up now, you know? I have to go party. And it’s Jongin’s party tonight. I can’t be late to my own best friend’s party, can I?”

 “Can I come too? I’d be really well behaved! I could colour in my fairy pictures while you are with all your big friends.” She wriggles excitedly. Chanyeol holds onto her tighter. She’ll get carried away if she can reach her crayons (currently a mess all over the floor).

 “You can’t, Misun. It’s a big people party. Full of scary people.”

 “But I don’t have to be scared when I have you!” She wraps her arms around his neck. Every year she gets sweeter and sweeter and gives Chanyeol toothache. “I know you will protect me! You’re the best big brother in the world!”

Chanyeol smiles fondly at her, combing his fingers through his hair. “You’re the best little sister in the world. _And_ the best sister. Don’t tell Yoora.” He winks. Misun pretends to zip up her lips.

There’s fifteen years between them – eighteen between Misun and Yoora – and yet they’re still best friends. They go to the park together, Chanyeol sometimes takes her shopping, but most importantly, he reminds her that even if she is clumsy sometimes (it’s a Park family trait), she’s still the most lovable, sunshine-y human being anyone could ever meet.

Their mother always wanted three kids. She figured that if one of them moved to the other side of the world, the two who stayed would still have each other. She also wanted loads of grandchildren. But when Chanyeol turned five, his parents got divorced. There was no love left, burned out like a flame reaching the end of its wick – their marriage turning out to be a shockingly short candle. She was stunted at two children. Time was ticking. Their dad had moved out and moved on, a new family in the works. Chanyeol worried about her for a lot of his childhood, until Youngjin showed up one night with a motorbike and a fanny pack and swept her off her feet.

Youngjin, also known as the best step-dad ever, was a hot single guy that his mum fell for instantly; Chanyeol bats for the same team, so he very quickly understood why. Leather jackets, big boots, aviator sunglasses. He was the bad boy from every woman’s (and Chanyeol’s) wet dreams. Of course, he wasn’t all bad. By night, he might have been the guy who rocked up on his Harley Davidson and dragged his mum out to midnight picnics by the river with a bottle of whiskey, but by day he drives a respectable Toyota Prius with one of those car boot organisers that neatly holds his food shopping, tyre repair kit and accountancy papers in different compartments. He also wears sweater vests.

In short, he’s the perfect guy. Definitely a good decision on his mum’s part for her third child. Chanyeol approves.

 “Anyway, Mum and Youngjin will be back soon so I have to start getting ready.”

 “But you look fine like this!” Misun latches onto his arm and rubs her cheek into the fleshy part above his elbow. It’s summer, so Chanyeol is just hanging around in baggy t-shirts and ripped jeans. Misun likes to play with the stray tassels that form around the tears.

Chanyeol starts bouncing his knees a little. “I know, but I want to look better than fine.”

She pouts again, pushing her bottom lip out. “Okay! But be careful with the scary people!” She slides off his lap and onto the floor, bounding over to her dresser and reaching on her tiptoes for the pink sparkly bear protecting her modest kids makeup collection. “Here! Take Sparkles with you! Sparkles is very good at keeping people safe.”

Chanyeol hesitantly takes the bear when she holds it out to him. “Misun, I’m sure Miss Sparkles doesn’t want to come to the party with me. It’ll be noisy.”

 “It’s not _Miss_ Sparkles! Sparkles is a boy! Just because he’s pink doesn’t mean he’s a girl,” she huffs.

 “Okay, I’m sorry.” Chanyeol holds his hands up in surrender. “But I still don’t think Sparkles will want to come.” He tries to hand the teddy bear back but she just pushes it towards him again.

 “I just asked him and he says he wants to go! Take care of each other!”  

 That face. That adorable, stubborn, pudgy, irritable, cute, little face. How can Chanyeol say no?

 “Okay,” he sighs, “fine. I will bring Sparkles to the party, but I really have to go and get ready now so you need to go to sleep.” He tucks Sparkles under his arm and stands off the bed so that Misun can crawl under the covers. “Do you want your night light left on?”

 “Yes please,” she says softly.

 “Alright.” He smiles gently, combing her hair back from her forehead so he can give her a little kiss. She has the softest hair. Hell, she has the softest everything. Sometimes Chanyeol gets carried away when he hugs her and squishes her too much. “Goodnight, then. Have sweet dreams, okay?”

 “Mhmm.” She nods, hugging the duvet against her body, her hair fanning out across the pillow. She’s so _tiny,_ so cute with her Scooby Doo bedding. “Wait! Sparkles needs a kiss too! For good luck!”

 “Oh, of course!” Chanyeol jumps, carefully placing Sparkles on the bed and watching fondly as she kisses both of the bear’s ears. “I’m sure Sparkles is feeling very brave now.”

She giggles lightly. “Make sure you don’t forget him! And if you leave him here I will not talk to you for fifty months!”

 “Fifty months?” Chanyeol whistles, slowly backing out of the room, feet treading over her heart-shaped rug, stealthily avoiding her crayons. “That’s a long time. I promise I’ll remember.”

He flicks off the main light, the room now glowing with the yellow star wall lamp on the opposite side of the room.

 “Goodnight, Misun.”

 “Goodnight!” she calls, already a little sleepy. “Wait! Leave the door open!”

 “Okay, okay,” he says as he edges the door closed. “I’ll leave it open a crack. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

The nickname makes her laugh again, and Chanyeol hears her sigh happily from where he stands on the landing. He then looks down at Sparkles. Oh yes. This will definitely help him score a guy tonight.

For the next half an hour, he spruces himself up. He does his hair, puts on a little makeup so he doesn’t look like he’s been punched in the eyes and sprays some nice deodorant on the parts of his body most likely to sweat. He also prepares himself, just in case. It’s been a long time since he’s been with someone and if he does happen to run into a hot guy tonight, he refuses to pass on him just because he’s not ready.

Jongin pulls up outside his house two minutes after his mum and Youngjin get home. As soon as his mum swings the front door open Chanyeol is saying “Hi, guys!” and “Bye, guys!” and hurtling down the driveway, a bag full of snacks in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. Sparkles is squashed between his arm and his ribcage, because fifty months _is_ a long time to be hated by your little sister and he won’t take the risk.

 “Hey,” he says to Jongin from the back of the car when he opens the boot and drops the things inside.

 “Sup, man,” Jongin says when he falls into the passenger seat. “Who’s your friend?” he asks mockingly, squinting at Sparkles and then staring at Chanyeol like he’s not all there.

He sighs, strapping himself in. “This is Sparkles,” he grumbles. “Misun made me bring him. He’s going to keep me safe.”

Jongin purses his lips, nods, and then revs the engine like all the annoying seventeen-year olds do the second they get their hands on a car. It’s an old Volkswagen Polo from 2004, precariously held together by Jongin’s impromptu paint job and the dodgy modifications he’s installed and not told his insurance company about. He changed the suspension a few months ago with a lowering kit he bought online, and when they drive past the local primary school on the route to Jongin’s house the bottom of the car grinds against the speed bumps, sounding like gravel in a blender.

It’s only just gone nine o’clock by the time they make it to Jongin’s. He’s helping to set up the party, arranging drinks, food, trying to find a music streaming site without ads. In the end they have to use up a free trial for Spotify. He places Sparkles in one of the kitchen cupboards, tucking him in amongst the glasses that hopefully no one will touch. He should be safe there, away from spilt drinks and suspicious substances.

It’s just him and Jongin at the party for about an hour before people start showing up, their closest friends first. Their acquaintances follow, then the friends of their acquaintances, and then friends of those friends. Jongin looks chuffed by midnight. They’ve had a pretty good turn-out.

There’s one guy Chanyeol is particularly interested in. Chanyeol’s been watching him with eagle-eyes; he’s been talking to the same person the whole night but they don’t appear to be closer than friends. Cordial laughter. Amiable expressions. They haven’t touched once and they’ve had at least three toilet breaks between them and not gone to the bathroom together. Chanyeol takes him as fair game because he’s _gorgeous._

Dark brown hair in a middle part, thick and fresh. Light tanned skin that’s just the right about of dewy. A broad chest wrapped up in a whole freaking dress shirt with cufflinks. It’s like he just stepped out of a business meeting. He definitely doesn’t fit in with the crowd here, not that Chanyeol is complaining. He’s got a nice ass.

Between drinking and dancing and messing around, Chanyeol is vying for this guy’s attention. However, he’s not the only person in the room who’s appreciating the view. Chanyeol’s never been that much of a confident flirt. His track record insists that he’s a disaster when he gets too close, so bedroom eyes from across the room is what he tends to fall back on. Of course, that only works if the recipient is actually looking his way, but seeing as commotions and spectacles follow him wherever he goes that’s never been much trouble. It’s just that there are a lot of females here tonight. _Horny_  females, apparently. Five have approached the mystery man and subtly been turned down. Chanyeol would be finding it entertaining if he wasn’t so jealous.

He needs to do something. He needs to make this guy notice him.

Solemn and in deep contemplation, he pours a shot of vodka into the bottom of his cup and reaches for the lemonade standing next to it. This will be his fourth drink of the night. _Fourth,_ and he’s been here for over three hours. He knows the alcohol would give him more confidence, but he doesn’t want to be drunk off his face when (if) he ever gets that guy’s attention. That, and the vodka would enhance his clumsiness – good for attracting attention, not good for retaining it.

There is a certain threshold that a lot of people have pertaining to his behaviour. It’s always cute at first. Funny. And Chanyeol is most definitely a people person, so even when he does do something monumentally stupendous he can always turn a room around with a joke and a smile. That works for the first, second, third time people hang out with him. Then, people start getting fed up and Chanyeol gets frustrated. He can’t keep people interested. They lose patience and leave. The one thing that Chanyeol believes he has going for him is the same thing that keeps driving people away.

And what if this guy doesn’t like clumsy? What if he’s one of those guys who glance over his shoulder at Chanyeol when he does something stupid and sneer with an indifferent stare, looking at him only because everyone else is looking too? But Chanyeol doesn’t know how to lure his attention in any other way. He’s not that good of a dancer and damn does he get nervous around people he finds attractive, so talking is off the menu. Thus, bedroom eyes. Chanyeol enlists the bedroom eyes.

Soon enough, mystery man just happens to glance over at the right moment. Chanyeol holds his stare. Boy, does he hold it, pouring all his lust into his face that it starts to strain as he gracefully takes a sip of his drink. Then he winces, too much vodka, and by the time he looks up again, the guy has gone back to talking with his friend.

Rats.

Maybe he’s blown it.

He decides to stop dwelling at the kitchen island and places himself beside his friends on the sofa. Sehun, the youngest of their friendship group, immediately lies across his lap. Baekhyun, their designated chatterbox and already drunk as hell, whips a packet of lollipops out from under his shirt and offers him one. Chanyeol is never the dude to turn down a lollipop.

They all chat for a while. Baekhyun mainly talks about his dick. Sehun’s bony ass digs into Chanyeol’s bony thighs and it’s a lot of bone against bone, but at some point someone brings out Twister and Sehun jumps up like an excited toddler at the prospect of playing. More dumb games of the same nature follow. Chanyeol doesn’t trust himself not to hurt anyone so he goes to refill his drink approximately six times.

Now well on his way to being shitfaced, it feels like he’s experiencing the party through a bubble. He’s leaning against the kitchen island again, hip cocked out with his ass probably looking delicious. It’s at this point in the night when he gets unfoundedly confident. He’s a whole damn meal, if he says so himself, ego boosted when he unlocks his phone and thinks he looks pretty decent in the front camera.

He’s scrolling through Twitter when he remembers the lollipop in his pocket and digs it out excitedly. He peels the wrapping off and licks his lips. It looks tasty. Sweet. And he might descend upon it a little lewdly when he takes it in his mouth. He’s not that much aware of it though, just as he’s not that aware of someone looking at him from across the room. Sure, he’s done a few sweeps to see what’s going on, eyes glossing over the mystery man whom he thinks he’s now in love with, but he hasn’t registered that the guy is actually _watching_  him.

It’s just a coincidence, really. Someone on his Twitter feed has retweeted a porn gif and oh god, _what if that was him and his guy?_   Chanyeol’s eyes shoot up, and this time, it’s him who’s pinned underneath a stare. Most of him is frozen. _Most of him._ Chanyeol’s mouth has a mind of its own, sucking, licking, nipping the lollipop. He watches the guy’s eyes droop, staring with focus at his lips puckering around the sugar as it melts on his tongue. Chanyeol doesn’t even care if anyone else is watching. He’s just putting on a show for his one true ass and wants it to be a good one.

The guy turns away once he’s red in the face. Chanyeol isn’t sure what that means. His heart sinks a little. Not even the sugar can keep his spirits up. But the night is still young and Jongin is marching through his house after turning the music down announcing that they’re going to start playing never have I ever. This will definitely give Chanyeol something to work with.

He wants the other guy to come play along too. As they all gather in the living room, squashed on the sofa and on the floor in front of it, sitting in a circle just like pre-school, Chanyeol looks around and sees that his guy hasn’t followed. Instead, he’s pouring himself a drink, standing in exactly the same location as Chanyeol had when he sprawled himself over the counter and pushed out his ass. He looks to be alone though, and catches Chanyeol staring when he goes to take a sip. Chanyeol smiles this time, a little more prepared, then turns back to the game at hand when Jongin says he’s going first.

 “Okay guys!” Jongin claps his hands and sits up on his knees. “Seeing as the majority of this game is always people struggling to come up with ‘never have I ever’s, ya boy bought a card set.” The whole room cheers, Baekhyun’s voice the loudest. “And,” he brings a hush, “it’s a _dirty_ card set!” Everyone erupts again. Baekhyun throws beer in the air by accident.

Despite the fact that it’s a ‘dirty’ card set, the sayings are pretty mundane. _Never have I ever gone skinny dipping. Never have I ever watched porn._ Chanyeol finds himself getting drunk and also not having much material to work with. Then he realises that the cards are building up, not necessarily to anything drastic, but to things of a dirtier degree. Like, _never have I ever had a threesome. Never have I ever used a household item as a dildo._

It’s like a saving grace when _never have I ever done anal_ comes around. Chanyeol looks up, meets eyes with his mystery man, and downs his drink. The guy raises his eyebrows. He’s standing watching them all in the kitchen, elusive, reserved, super sexy. His eyes trail up and down Chanyeol’s body – which isn’t far considering he’s sitting cross-legged – and Chanyeol swears he smirks a little. Oh, yeah. He’s into it.

 “Never have I ever sucked a dick!”

Pretty much everyone takes a drink, though Chanyeol’s cup is empty, so he decides to make his way to the kitchen for a refill.

 “Hey,” he slurs, reaching for the vodka and the lemonade and pouring himself the equivalent of a triple shot. He’s not even looking at his cup but at the god in front of him. He’s even more attractive up close.

The guy smiles like Chanyeol amuses him. “Hello.”

He said hello. _God_ that’s so hot.

 “Thought I’d better come get a refill,” Chanyeol says cockily, filling his cup with lemonade to the top. “’Cause I suck dick.”

Mystery man nods and watches as Chanyeol takes a huge gulp of his drink. The threatening burp that follows makes Chanyeol’s head swim. It could just be his drunken stupor, but Chanyeol has this nagging feeling that he recognises this guy from somewhere. He feels like he’s heard his voice before.

 “Why don’t you join us?” Chanyeol asks, trying to look at his sexy prey but finding his vision swinging out of focus.

A shrug. “I’m not that interested.” He looks past Chanyeol for a moment like he’s listening to something. Chanyeol is still trying to string a reply together when the guy suddenly asks: “Well?”

Chanyeol blinks. “W-Well?” Is this a proposition?

The guy laughs slightly, crossing his arms and dropping his eyes to Chanyeol’s hips for a moment. “Never have I ever been fisted.”

Slow. Chanyeol’s mind is slow. “Excuse me?” This guy is telling him he hasn’t been fisted before. Does that mean—Does that mean he _wants_ to be fisted? And he wants Chanyeol to do it for him? Because Chanyeol is definitely up for that.

 “I think you should take a break and have some water instead.”

Before Chanyeol can figure out what’s happening, his hand is empty and his drink is being placed in the fridge. An instant later, there’s another cup in his hand, and he drinks it without registering what it is just because mystery man was the one who gave it to him.

 “Go and enjoy the game,” the guy says, patting Chanyeol on the shoulder. Chanyeol wants to be patted somewhere else. Further down. He’s got lovely hands.

 “Maybe I prefer being here?” Chanyeol grins sloppily, hoping the guy gets the hint. Instead, he’s steered back towards the living room with a fond gaze through a bunch of people who also aren’t playing and is left alone behind one of the sofas. Maybe the guy has a point. He’s probably too drunk for his taste and also too drunk to get off. The night is still fairly middle-aged and sure, he’s got plenty of room for water to help him sober up a little. Chanyeol laughs to himself at the thought of them hooking up later. He wants it to happen so badly. Chanyeol hasn’t seen such good dicking material in a long time.

Things progress. The game ends. Chanyeol’s head feels a little clearer. The music is loud and the neighbours are probably cursing their unborn children, but Chanyeol is finally dancing surrounded by sweaty bodies and puffs of weed. He’s so out of it that he doesn’t even care if he looks stupid. He’s totally feeling himself, as are a few others around him, and he keeps making sure to throw his potential hook-up heated glances every time he attempts something sexy. So far, he’s twerked to Demi Lovato, grinded on one of his girl friends to Rihanna and gotten midway through stripping to an early Britney Spears song. And no matter how obscene it might all look, the guy has stuck around. Despite Chanyeol elbowing people, stepping on toes and falling over his own feet, he’s being watched with hungry eyes from across the room and damn is he eating it all up.

Everything is working. This is the best night of his life. He’s going to sleep with the _ultimate_  daddy. He starts making his way over, panting, lips parted, trying to look sexy and enticing. He’s halfway there, desperate, maybe already halfway hard too, when Jongin hooks his arm around his waist and halts him on the spot.

 “Dude,” he calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music. “Why are you eye-fucking my brother?”

Chanyeol’s cogs stop turning.

Brother?

 _That’s_  Jongin’s brother?

He looks up at his guy. His mystery man. Junmyeon. That delicious body. That smooth voice. That… _Junmyeon face._ And shit.

_That’s Jongin’s brother._

*

;

Chanyeol’s not sure where he is right now, but he knows he’s uncomfortable. He wakes up every hour or so to a dark room, aware every time he’s conscious of the headache carrying on the party between his temples – a loud, throbbing burning that creeps back after every time he forces himself back to sleep.

He can’t remember ever having a hangover this bad. The alcohol he consumed last night is sitting heavy in his stomach, rocking back and forth with the weight of a mercury pendulum each time he moves. It’s also been a long time since he’s been this thirsty – and he’s not just talking about water.

He has a restless sleep for the next few hours. From his tossing and turning, he’s sussed that he’s either on the floor or a very wide bed, and seeing as Jongin still sleeps on a single and he’s pretty sure Jongin’s parents’ bedroom is locked, the floor is most likely. At some point, he rolls over and smacks his knee against the edge of the fireplace. The living room is where he made camp.

There are other breathers around and the room kind of stinks. Chanyeol feels desperately in need of a shower and a gallon of water, and wonders in his simmering head if he could do them both at the same time. Probably. Jongin would even let him shower here, it wouldn’t be the first time, but why does Chanyeol feel the increasing need to run away?

Steadily, he rolls onto his back and regrets it immediately. He feels like he needs a good fart, a good burp, just something to get all the air out. He feels swollen, bloated with vodka. Or pregnant. Chanyeol grimaces and opens his eyes because _god_  has he lost it, and when he looks around he’s greeted by Baekhyun’s sleeping face. What a mess.

He’s able to check the time after he realises he’s lying on something hard and that something is his phone. It’s only just gone past ten o’clock. Why is he even awake? He only went to sleep five hours ago. Plus, it doesn’t look like anyone else is going to move any time soon. It would be awkward if he was the only one awake, thinks Chanyeol, the twenty-one-year-old.

Chanyeol frowns at himself and decides finally that he should get some water. Sitting up is a laboured process, standing even slower, and when he’s got to his feet and has a bird’s eye view of everything around him, he comes to a complete halt.

Sehun is using the Twister mat as a blanket. Someone else is draped across the sofa in only their underwear and Chanyeol has no idea who they are. Baekhyun’s foot is in Jongin’s face, and every time he twitches in his sleep, it pushes against Jongin’s nose. But much more than that, Chanyeol hasn’t seen this many empty liquor bottles since freshers week. Crisps have been trodden into the carpet, coke spilled and iced cupcakes laying facedown on the end table. Chanyeol is definitely going to be roped in as part of the clean-up crew and he’s not looking forward to it.

Still in his shoes, he trudges his way to the kitchen, slipping his phone into his back pocket and stretching his arms above his head. He’s just getting a cup out of the cupboard when he hears someone else’s footsteps. He figures anyone else would have greeted him a good morning, so Chanyeol mentally prepares himself to meet the naked guy from the sofa when he closes the cupboard again and gets the filtered water from the fridge. Except it isn’t naked guy. It’s Jongin’s brother.

All the memories come flooding back, Chanyeol’s hand rapidly tightening around his glass. Oh sweet balls. He teased this man all night. He told him he’d sucked dick and hinted at wanting to suck his. He’d been about to grind on him before Jongin had cut him out of it! How long has he known this guy? _Since he was four_. He’s only the guy Chanyeol has been harbouring a mini crush on since forever, and apparently time hasn’t made it go away. Chanyeol _still_ wants his dick seventeen years later.

But he’d—Chanyeol can’t deal with that right now.

 “Morning.” Junmyeon smiles at him, all casual, like nothing at all happened last night. He can’t have forgotten. Chanyeol was watching him the whole time and he hardly drank anything. Junmyeon laughs lightly. Chanyeol is gawking again. “Thirsty?” He raises an eyebrow.

Chanyeol runs away.

*

 “Dude, what happened?” is the first thing Jongin asks him when he rings in the early afternoon. “I woke up and you were gone.”

Now showered and hiding himself in his bedroom, Chanyeol whines down the phone. “I’m sorry, Jongin I just—” He pauses. Does he tell the truth? It’s not like Jongin doesn’t already know what he was trying to do last night. Unless he’s forgotten. Chanyeol prays that Jongin’s hangover was pure evil. “I was feeling really sick and I wanted a shower, you know? And you guys were all asleep. I still feel pretty crap but I’ll come over tomorrow if you still need help tidying?”

Jongin sighs. Chanyeol winces. He’s being an asshole. What kind of best friend takes off in the morning without a word and ditches those who remain with a tonne of cleaning?

 “Nah, it’s fine. You’ve helped me countless times, Yeol. It’s about time Baekhyun started pulling his weight.”

Chanyeol jumps on the bandwagon. “Yeah, I totally agree.” He tries not to sound too enthusiastic about it. “It was a sick party though. Awesome job.”

 “I’m glad you had a good time,” Jongin replies, sounding pleased. There’re a few beats of silence afterwards. Chanyeol hesitates, thinking Jongin is about to say something, anxious of him mentioning the situation with Junmyeon and calling him out on it, but he doesn’t. “Let’s meet up tomorrow though,” he says instead. “Help me pack my suitcase for camp.”

 “Right, dance camp.” Chanyeol nods, only just remembering. “I’ll come over.”

 “Does two o’clock sound good? My parents are still away and my brother should be out of the house so we’ll be alone. Can play some good tunes while you help me pick my outfits.”

Chanyeol relaxes. He didn’t even realise he was tense. “Yeah, sounds great! I’ll see you then. Sorry about taking off all of a sudden like that.”

 “Don’t sweat it,” Jongin waves him off. “Anyways, I’ll catch you later.”

He spends the rest of the day cooped up in his room binging a TV series on Netflix. With both his parents at work and Misun over at her friend’s house for a sleepover, he slobs out to the max with Nutella-dipped-everything and unhealthy energy drinks without an ounce of guilt. 

Tomorrow, Chanyeol finds himself sprawled across Jongin’s bed helping him decide what clothes to take. His legs are long and positioned around the suitcase currently resting open at the end, and he’s lying back on his elbows with his phone on his chest. He checks it every time it vibrates. Just Twitter and YouTube updates. He’s part of many notification squads, not group chats.

 “How long are you going for again?” Chanyeol asks as he witnesses Jongin folding another t-shirt. There’s twelve of them so far.

 “Two weeks,” Jongin replies, paying him no mind and turning back to his mess of a wardrobe to find something else. “And I’m going to be sweating a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I’ll be teaching classes pretty much all day, except on the weekends, but on the weekends we’re all doing canoeing and orienteering. Outdoorsy stuff. So, more sweat.”

Chanyeol purses his lips. “So you need a different outfit every day?” He idly goes through Jongin’s bedside drawers, finding condoms in the first one, lube in the second and a retro porn magazine in the third. Chanyeol was with him when he bought that from a jumble sale a few years ago. Apparently, people collect and trade them, but as he flicks through, struggling to pry apart a couple of pages, he figures that’s not the reason Jongin bought it.

 “Last summer, I took seven sets of clothes. The idea was I would wear them twice after a wash in between. Then we had a power outage and none of the washing machines worked. I’m not risking letting that happen to me again. The kids weren’t shy in telling me how much I stank. It was mortifying.”

Chanyeol hums, staring at a pair of tits the size of his own face and feeling nothing whatsoever – except maybe intrigue. Real, or not real? That is the question.

 “I guess that makes sense,” he says, distracted. He flicks through the last couple pages, then drops the magazine back in the drawer and shuts it away. “How much are they paying you?”

 “I’m not there for the money.” Jongin yanks a pair of tracksuit bottoms off their hanger, scrutinises them, then throws them into the bottom of his closet. “I’m there for my love of dance.”

An ugly snort later, Chanyeol is trying not to laugh. “Oh _yeah,_ okay.” His eyes roam the room, mainly the bookshelves. “Where’s your gay porn stash, Nini?”

Jongin chokes. The door opens. Chanyeol instantly meets eyes with Junmyeon as he peers into the room.

 “Oh,” Junmyeon stops. He looks at Chanyeol like he’s been caught doing something he ought not to be, like swearing. Such a goody-two-shoes. “Hi, Chanyeol.” His eyes quickly move on. “Jongin, what time do you need dropping off at the academy tomorrow?”

 “I need to be there for eight.” He folds a pair of joggers and throws them into the suitcase. They land unfolded.

Chanyeol appreciates that Junmyeon is in only a t-shirt and some relaxed sweats. He looks so good. Painfully good. But Chanyeol is too shy to stare at him anymore. Plus, whenever Junmyeon looks at him, he probably sees an awkward lanky twelve-year-old. He’s known him since he had milk teeth, for heaven’s sake.

 “Chanyeol helping you pack?” Junmyeon asks, and Jongin agrees, saying something of no importance because damn, Junmyeon is looking straight at him and he must not have eaten breakfast today. Chanyeol can almost feel Junmyeon’s hungry eyes taking him apart. He doesn’t even look that good. He didn’t shower before coming over, only ran a brush through his hair once, and he’s wearing the hoodie that makes him look like he has a saggy stomach. But he swears, _swears,_ that Junmyeon is trying to tell him something.

 “Do you really need that many clothes?” Junmyeon averts his eyes to the suitcase, pacing into the room, stopping close to Chanyeol’s legs and making him want to shrivel up and hide.

 “Duh, it’s a fashion show,” Jongin jokes, coming over and letting fourteen pairs of socks fall from his arms into the netting on the suitcase lid. “It’s gonna be really warm the next two weeks, so that’s double the sweat than usual.”

Chanyeol grins. “Maybe you should just get Botox in your armpits.”

Junmyeon chuckles. “That’s not a bad idea, Jongin. You should get rid of your butt chin while you’re at it.”

 “Oh my god!” Jongin cries, shoving Junmyeon away from him and returning to his wardrobe. He starts picking out underwear. Calvin Klein. Hugo Boss. Primark.

Junmyeon finds his reaction amusing and looks at Chanyeol while he laughs. Chanyeol smiles longingly back at him, smitten with the way his cheeks push up against his eyes. And those teeth. White, shiny, pearlescent. Chanyeol needs a closer look.

 “Okay, well, I’ll leave you guys to it. I’m thinking I might order pizza later if you guys want in?”

Eating with Junmyeon. Chanyeol doesn’t know how he wouldn’t choke on every bite. But it’s a good opportunity to crank up the sex appeal. He can make out with pizza. He’s done it tens of times before.

 “Sure! That would be really nice!” Chanyeol replies enthusiastically and abruptly and a bit too loud. He doesn’t even know if Jongin wants him to hang around but he also doesn’t care, because Junmyeon.

By the end of the night, Chanyeol has decided that lusting after Junmyeon is definitely a bad idea. While eating pizza, he licked his lips, made a few pornographic noises and sucked grease off his fingertips. He got Junmyeon’s attention every time, but he also got Jongin’s. And while Junmyeon was looking at him with hooded eyes and his bottom lip caught beneath his teeth, Jongin was glaring at him like he’d gone berserk and kept asking him why he was behaving so weird.

 “It’s just really good pizza,” Chanyeol laughed nervously. Jongin didn’t seem convinced.

And there lies his problem: Jongin. Jongin would probably never be okay with the idea of him and Junmyeon getting together. Not only that, but when is Chanyeol ever going to be in the same room with Junmyeon without Jongin present? It’s not like he and Junmyeon hang out together. They never even met by themselves. Jongin is the middle man Chanyeol desperately wants to cut out, but cutting him out could prove disastrous. Either way, it’s a catastrophe.

Chanyeol kicks a rock into a drain on his walk home. He’s sad. Bereft. His chest aches a little and his stomach is flopping around, crying because the pizza shenanigans didn’t live up to their full potential. He should have at least been pushed against the wall and kissed while Jongin wasn’t looking. Junmyeon could have cunningly said “I’ll go get drinks” and given Chanyeol The Look. Then Chanyeol could have conveniently needed the toilet. They were watching a movie that Jongin was practically glued to. He wouldn’t have noticed.

But Chanyeol’s heart remains empty, among other things. When he gets home, he’s forced to read his sister another bedtime story, this one being ‘Fifi’s Big Adventure’ where Fifi follows Pompom the bumble bee to meet the queen bee. Fifi is almost stung by evil wasps on the way there, and Misun gasps in horror as Chanyeol reads it out, putting her fingers over her eyes so she doesn’t have to look at the illustration on the page.

 “’Thank you for saving me from the wasps,’ said Fifi,” Chanyeol reads. “’That was very scary indeed’. Pompom hugged Fifi to make sure she was okay. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Pompom. ‘Now, let’s take you to see our Queen.’”

 “It’s just like real life!” Misun says when Chanyeol is finished. “I wonder where Pompom really lives!”

Chanyeol catches himself just before he tells her that Pompom would probably be dead by now because he’s part of an endangered species.

 “I bet he lives nearby,” Chanyeol plays along. “Maybe in the park? Shall we go to the park at the weekend to try and find Pompom?”

 “Oh, yeah!” She bounces happily, giggling afterwards. “Chanyeol…”

 “Yeah?” he asks as he gets off the bed and slots the book back on the bookshelf.

 “I was just wondering… where is Sparkles?”

Chanyeol freezes.

Sparkles?

Sp- _Sparkles?_  

 “You brought him back from the party, didn’t you? Because I haven’t seen him since and I miss him. I thought I would be okay with letting you keep him but I think I want him back now.”

Chanyeol tries to muffle a gasp and act casual. _Oh shit._

*

**Chanyeol:** Tell me you haven’t left home yet

 **Jongin:** Wat

 **Jongin:** Why?

 **Chanyeol:** I left something at your place

 **Chanyeol:** I think

 **Chanyeol:** I hope

 **Jongin:** I dont rember seeing anything of yours tho? What did you leave?

 **Chanyeol:** Sparkles :(

 **Jongin:** Oh shit yea.. forgot about that guy

 **Chanyeol:** ¬_¬

 **Chanyeol:** I need him baaaaackk… I think I put him in your kitchen cupboard? Maybe?

 **Jongin:** I’m already at camp :/ My brother is probly home tho? I can text him and say you’re coming over for your pink teddy lmao

 **Chanyeol:** Are u saying you wouldnt support me if I watned a pink teddy?

 **Jongin:** ……. Ill tell him.. lemme know if you find it

 **Chanyeol:** Thank youuuuuuuuuuuu

As soon as Chanyeol locks his phone, he realises what this means, and gosh, this is _not_ a good idea. Alone time with Junmyeon? Only yesterday he was pining for it. Now, he’s crippled with insecurities. How is he supposed to act? Does he just go in, find Sparkles and leave, or does he try and make conversation? Suddenly, Chanyeol feels very lost. His heartbeat is quickening and his palms feel sweaty. Time with Junmyeon. Alone. All by himself in an empty house, except for Sparkles. Hopefully.

Chanyeol goes to make himself presentable, among other things.

It takes him longer than usual to reach Jongin’s house. He’s subconsciously walking at a slower pace, dawdling along pavements (but still rushing across zebra crossings) and lingering around corner stores debating whether he should buy anything. Such acts only delay the inevitable. Just over half an hour later, he’s walking up Jongin’s driveway, hands in his pockets, eyes watching his converse take his steps. The white rims are ridiculously scuffed.

He imagines himself to be in some kind of teen movie when he stops outside the front door at just stares at the brass number ‘28’ between the thin glazed windows. Behind him is a sleek Mercedes, black with tinted glass. Junmyeon is just as sexy as his car.

After a deep, steadying breath, Chanyeol presses on the doorbell. He can hear the sound ringing out on the other side of the door, a lump of nerves swelling in his throat as he sees a blurry, distorted figure jogging down the stairs and coming to stand on the doormat. Chanyeol chokes on a gasp when the door opens - trying not to be obvious - and there is Junmyeon, a crisp, white shirt tucked into his distressed blue jeans. The cool light from the clouded sky compliments his skin, but the lack of sun doesn’t mean Chanyeol isn’t overheating.

 “Chanyeol,” Junmyeon says. Wow. “Hi.” He smiles politely, gorgeously, and opens the door a little wider so he isn’t hiding one shoulder behind it.

 “Hey,” Chanyeol replies, voice a little croaky.

 “Jongin said you left something here?”

 “Yeah, on Friday. I just came to pick it up.”

Understanding sweeps across Junmyeon’s face. He steps back from the door, smiles gloriously, and waves Chanyeol inside. “No problem,” he says. “Come on in.”

 “Thanks,” Chanyeol replies, grinning nervously as he crosses the threshold and has Junmyeon shut the door behind him. He wipes his palms on his thighs, already clammy, and starts making his way towards the kitchen. “Sorry for being annoying.” He laughs awkwardly, not knowing how to act without Jongin around. How does he make conversation? What kind of things does Junmyeon even like to talk about?

 “No, no, it’s totally fine. I’m off work at the moment so I’m not up to much. What is it you left behind?”

Junmyeon follows him into the kitchen.

 “It’s…” Chanyeol pauses for a second, then realises that Junmyeon’s going to know what he came for either way. “My little sister made me bring this bear to the party to keep me safe from all the ‘big people’.”

 “You have a little sister?”

Chanyeol freezes. “Yeah. She’s six.”

Junmyeon lets out a small laugh. “Sorry,” he says. “I guess I haven’t been around in a while. It never really came up in conversation.”

 “Why would it?” Chanyeol shrugs and chuckles, then realising that his falling tone came across as somewhat self-deprecating. Junmyeon watches him for a maybe a second too long.

 “What’s her name?”

 “Misun,” Chanyeol answers, already sporting the proudest big brother smile. “She’s… perfect, to be honest. Funny, cute. Clumsy.”

 “That’s a Park family trait, is it not?” Junmyeon grins, and is Chanyeol being teased? He smiles unsurely as Junmyeon takes a step closer, then smirks.

 “Why, I didn’t know you paid such close attention to me.” He does his best to look cute. Junmyeon eats it all up, then snaps out of it.

 “So,” he starts, and Chanyeol prays that he’s going to finish with _want to go upstairs?_  He doesn’t. “Where’s this bear hiding?”

Chanyeol jolts, surprised to learn he’d forgotten why he came here. “Right!” he exclaims loudly, then turns and continues his trek towards the kitchen. “He should be right in _here_!”

He opens the cupboard door and is greeted with an array of different sized glasses. Tall ones. Short ones. Balloon ones and wine ones. But there’s no pink. No glittery fur.

Sparkles is missing.

 “Oh god,” Chanyeol whispers, staring wide eyed at the empty void before him. There’s a gap between two flutes where Sparkles should be. He was sober when he hid the toy, he can’t be mistaken. “He’s not there.”

 “Hm?” Junmyeon makes a noise of concern, just shy of pressing against Chanyeol’s side as he looks over his shoulder to see the cupboard for himself — as if Chanyeol could actually miss a hot pink bear amongst all the brown. And he _is_  close. Chanyeol can feel Junmyeon’s chest pressing against his hanging arm, but to his surprise, it’s not that he’s freaking out about.

 “Misun is going to hate me,” he says, and opens the floodgates to panic. “Oh my god. She’s not going to talk to me for fifty months. She said she wouldn’t talk to me for fifty months if I lost Sparkles and now I’ve lost Sparkles, so when I go home she’s going to grab her calendar and mark out how long fifty months is, I just know it.”

 “Hey,” Junmyeon tries to calm him down, “it’s gonna be fine.”

Chanyeol sharply shakes his head. “I should have left him at home. I should have left him in my porch and just picked him up the next morning. Left him in Jongin’s car, I don’t know. I’m so stupid.” Junmyeon puts a hand on his back. “And I can’t just replace Sparkles, oh no,” he rambles on. “She’ll be able to tell. I know she will. I bet there’s some secret mark on him somewhere from her crayons that isn’t on any other Sparkles bear. Do they even _sell_ these bears anymore? Oh my god.”

 “Chanyeol, hey,” Junmyeon cuts in, a little louder. “It’s gonna be fine. Are you sure it was this cupboard?”

He turns to look at Junmyeon. His heart, already pounding from the panic, rapidly speeds up pace when he realises that they are sharing the same air. “I’m positive,” he insists. “I remember standing right here.”

 “Okay, then, what does Sparkles look like?”

 “Pink. Sparkly. He’s—he really shouldn’t be that easy to lose, I mean—” Chanyeol takes a deep breath and looks back at the cupboard after vigorously rubbing his eyes. Sparkles is still not there.

A look of recognition dawns on Junmyeon’s face. “You know, Chanyeol, I have a feeling I saw some people playing with it on Friday.”

Chanyeol gasps, distraught. “No!”

 “They were throwing him around,” Junmyeon tells grimly, “so chances are, he’s probably around the house somewhere. We just have to look for him.” Junmyeon smiles and it almost solves everything – Chanyeol’s heart rate, his dread, his excessive sweat.

He lets Junmyeon’s words sink in. Having his voice in his head soothes him better than any lullaby he’s heard, and eventually things start making sense. He nods, a little ragged, and breaks out a wobbly grin.

 “Yeah, you’re right,” he breathes, more positive than before. “So we just have to look around. It’s gonna be fine.”

 “Right.” Junmyeon smiles and claps him on the arm before sliding past him, beginning to look in the rest of the cupboards on the wall above the countertop. “My parents’ bedroom and mine were off limits during the party so you won’t find Sparkles in there, but the rest of the house is fair game. Let’s do one room at a time, so we can make sure we look everywhere.” He closes the last cupboard door in the row and looks at Chanyeol from above his flexed bicep, hand still on the door handle. “Sound good?”

Chanyeol gulps. “Y-Yeah. Sounds good.”

Junmyeon grins like a superhero, the plan to save their ‘Sparkles in distress’ afoot. “Let’s go.”

They start searching, checking all the cupboards, the fridge, even the dishwasher. They establish a one-way system around the room and double check each nook and cranny, and while searching, Chanyeol can’t help but lose his train of thought when Junmyeon reaches high or reaches low. His clothes strain so nicely against his body.

When the kitchen is cleared, they move onto the lounge. They start talking a little. Chanyeol asks about Junmyeon’s job and discovers that he’s an accountant like his step-dad. He’s moved back home for four weeks of summer, but then he’ll be getting his own place half an hour away to oversee the launch of a new branch he’s opening on behalf of his company. Apparently, he’s on good terms with his boss and his boss’ boss and could get a promotion pretty soon.

It becomes more of a catch-up than a Sparkles hunt. Junmyeon asks about Yoora, to which Chanyeol says she’s a newscaster now and Junmyeon admits he thought the woman on the TV looked familiar. Sometimes, Chanyeol is so absorbed in the conversation that he’s just roaming around the room, picking up blankets and cushions, looking behind the TV, completely forgetting what he’s actually searching for.

 “No sign of Sparkles?” Junmyeon asks once they’ve done a full circuit.

Chanyeol pauses, struck for a second, before he remembers why he’s here. “Oh, no,” he replies, suddenly feeling a little disappointed. He dwells on that feeling as they take on the dining room. There are cabinets to look in and chairs to look under, curtains to peel back. Chanyeol wonders if this is all just inconsequential small talk to Junmyeon. Maybe he’s only asking him things because he finds the silence awkward, or he doesn’t want Chanyeol to lead the conversation in case it turns… well, inappropriate – as if Chanyeol has the courage to do that. He feels like he has so many feelings of such great a strength that it should be impossible for someone not to pick up on them, but alas, Junmyeon does not. Chanyeol is screaming and his crush can’t hear him.

That doesn’t stop him from staring at Junmyeon’s ass when he heads upstairs in front of him.

 “You check Jongin’s room and I’ll check the bathroom, yeah?” he asks, and Chanyeol figures he’s trying to get rid of him. Smart move.

He ambles about Jongin’s room, hearing Junmyeon moving bottles around bathroom shelves from across the hallway. He finds some questionable things in his best friend’s drawers and discovers quite a large collection of scented candles in the top shelf of his wardrobe, but no Sparkles. Despite the state of the floor (Jongin really needs to vacuum in here), Chanyeol gets down on his knees and checks beneath the bed. There are storage boxes, but no drunk idiots playing catch would put Sparkles in there.

 _Unless_ _they played hide and seek._

Chanyeol gasps hoarsely and yanks the boxes out one by one, coming across folded stacks of old clothes, school books, and toys from when they were younger. With a huff, he shoves them all back under and crawls around the room, doing a perimeter check of the skirting board. He’s checking behind and underneath Jongin’s desk when Junmyeon calls his name. Boy, does it sound nice.

 “Chanyeol? I didn’t find anything in the bathroom. Any luck in here?”

Gingerly, Chanyeol starts reverse crawling and looks up—

 “ _Fuck!_ ” His head slams against the underside of the desk, a surface he was sure he was clear of, and breaks out in sharp, aching pains.

 “Chanyeol! Are you alright?”

Chanyeol clutches onto his head and lets out a shocked noise at how tender it feels. “Crap, um.” He moves away from the desk, a lot more careful this time, and notices that Junmyeon is kneeling behind him looking beautifully worried. “I’m—I’m totally fine, yeah,” Chanyeol replies. His head is fine but his heart is not. “Stupid desk, right?” he chuckles nervously, the sound petering out when Junmyeon sits up on his knees and reaches out to pull Chanyeol’s hands away.

 “Let me look,” he says, and Chanyeol sits there, frozen, as Junmyeon gently holds his head and examines the growing lump. Chanyeol doesn’t realise until Junmyeon edges a little closer that he’s staring at the fly of his jeans, right under his nose.

 “There’s no blood,” is Junmyeon’s diagnosis. “Your scalp didn’t split, so it’ll probably just bruise and be sore for a while. Though I’m no trained doctor, so please don’t sue me if anything happens,” he jokes. Chanyeol laughs enthusiastically. “Why don’t we take a break from searching for a while, have some tea?”

He stands and offers out his hand, pulling Chanyeol to his feet once he agrees. They head back downstairs and Chanyeol leans against the kitchen island while Junmyeon fills up the kettle and sets it to boil.

 “You should sit down,” he says from over his shoulder, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard. “Do you feel dizzy or anything?”

The light-headedness he gets from being around Junmyeon is nothing new, but at least he doesn’t feel any worse. He shakes his head, winces a little, and allows himself to be guided to the dining room where he sits down and Junmyeon opens the patio doors for some fresh air.

 “I’ll be right back.” He smiles, letting his hand linger on Chanyeol’s shoulder on his way past. It immediately tingles and goes fuzzy, and Chanyeol may or may not reverently put his own hand on the same spot until it jerks out of place when Junmyeon re-enters the room.

 “Here we are,” he announces, setting two mugs of tea down on the mahogany and sitting perpendicular to Chanyeol.

 “Thanks.” Chanyeol shoots him a smile and reaches immediately for his tea, taking a sip. It’s just how he likes it, which is a bit suspicious considering Junmyeon didn’t ask him if he wanted either sugar or milk.

There’s a moment of calm quiet, then Junmyeon sparks up a conversation about summer. “I’m going travelling with a couple friends,” he says. “This trip has been almost a year in the making. It took us ages to all get time off at the same time.” He’s backpacking through Italy in a few weeks, staying in hostels, laying low. Chanyeol pouts with jealousy.

 “That sounds really fun, and I’m stuck here with… I don’t know, Baekhyun to hang out with.”

Junmyeon lets out a hearty laugh, his smile gorgeous. “Right,” he nods, “I met Baekhyun for the first time on Friday. He’s definitely a character.”

 “Loud, annoying, a top-grade procrastinator and nagger,” Chanyeol playfully lists, raising a finger for each one.

 “Yeah, I got that impression,” Junmyeon chuckles. “He tried to talk to me several times.”

Chanyeol heart skips a beat. “He did?” For some reason, his smile wanes just a little. Envy may be the cause. Baekhyun is probably just Junmyeon’s type and vice versa. But the whole time Chanyeol was at the party, he was watching Junmyeon. He never saw them interact. “When?”

 “After you blacked out.” Junmyeon sips his tea. “Around half three, I think it was. The guys had put on a horror film and were playing _cards against humanity_ , and halfway through a round you just kind of lied down and didn’t get back up again. Was cute, really.”

Chanyeol blushes, even though falling asleep at a party in full swing is kind of a lame thing to do. “Right,” he chuckles bashfully. “I don’t really remember any of that. So… did you and Baekhyun… get on?” He can hear himself so clearly and it’s painful. He’s being obvious, obsessive, _weird_.   Junmyeon just smirks like he’s keeping a secret.

 “As well as can be expected. He was a bit forword and I suppose I was a bit backward. Meaning, he kept coming onto me and I kept brushing him off.”

His heart jolts mid-beat. “Don’t you find him attractive, then?”

Junmyeon’s eyes narrow by a slither, sizing Chanyeol up. Chanyeol feels stripped bare, like Junmyeon can see through his clothes, his very skin, and is watching his heart panic and palpitate like it’s his prey.

 “I had my eye on someone else,” he purrs, smirking, giving Chanyeol such an intense look that he feels it in his groin. His blood gushes through his ears and his hands go all sweaty, and he thinks Junmyeon might be about to pounce on him and press him against the floor, have his way. Then he’s going back to his tea, sipping on it calmly as if he hasn’t just given Chanyeol a semi in his jeans. Nice.

Chanyeol gulps his own drink down, staring at his Winnie the Pooh mug and tracing the lines of the illustration.

 “How’s your head?” Junmyeon asks, and Chanyeol looks up at him in surprise. Back to normal conversation, are they? Disappointment lays in his stomach like lead.

 “Oh, it’s—it feels fine. Better now, after the tea.” He nods to reassure him, and makes a ‘cheers’ motion with his mug before taking another mouthful. God, that was cringey.

Junmyeon nods, smirks, then licks his lips. “No,” he leans towards him, “how is your _head_?”

Chanyeol blinks, blank. _Pardon?_

He has to backtrack, wondering if Junmyeon has actually said that or if he’s just hallucinating. Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought, but one thing he can’t deny, concussion or not, is that Junmyeon looks stunning right now. Hair a little floppy but no less voluminous, shirt buttons fighting to keep that meaty chest hidden away. Chanyeol wishes they’d wave a white flag and let him at it.

A movement of the eyes and Chanyeol feels his ears burning. Junmyeon looked at his crotch, or, where his crotch would be without the table in the way, and suddenly, the question makes a lot more sense.

Chanyeol bites his lip. This is happening. It’s actually happening.

_Really?_

What the fuck.

Well, if Junmyeon is offering… “I can show you, if you like?” Chanyeol can’t believe how sleazy he sounds. On one hand, this is all happening so fast, and on the other, he’s been waiting a decade for this moment. Chanyeol doesn’t intend on waiting another ten years for this blessed opportunity.

Junmyeon reclines, easing his chair backwards and twisting it in Chanyeol’s direction, all the while Chanyeol’s heart rate is getting faster and faster and he’s finding it a little hard to breathe. Then, Junmyeon smiles, and Chanyeol jumps out of his seat.

For a moment, he stands between Junmyeon’s legs. The second he gets there, arms come around him and his arms go around Junmyeon in return, and they simply hold each other, feeling one another’s form, physique, appreciating it and picturing it without clothes. Junmyeon never breaks eye contact, looking up at Chanyeol with both lust and affection, while his hands slide into his belt loops and urge him closer. His lips are parted, plump and waiting, and Chanyeol doesn’t have the strength to hold back when they’ve sent him a gold laced invitation to the party of the century.

And Chanyeol just graduated. He’s got to party.

The first time their lips touch is a mess. Two different kissing styles clashing in a disorganised fashion, where Chanyeol goes straight in for the kill and Junmyeon simply puckers at him.

 “Oh, come on,” Chanyeol sniggers, talking quietly and slowly lowering himself to straddle Junmyeon’s lap. He’s got Junmyeon’s face in his hands, his spine uncomfortably hunched over and Junmyeon’s neck craned quite a way back. It’s not an ideal angle, with Chanyeol being so tall, but somehow it works. Feels right. He has Junmyeon’s arms around his hips, hands tugging the back of his zip-up hoodie. “Kiss me properly,” he hums. Junmyeon’s eyes squint when he grins.

 “We should start slow,” he says, pecking Chanyeol once, eyes flashing between his eyes and his lips. “I don’t want to rush this.” He licks the seam of Chanyeol’s lips anyway. Chanyeol entertains the idea that maybe Junmyeon is desperate for a taste.

Their lips graze together when Chanyeol next speaks, little shocks of lightning zapping around in his stomach. “Well,” he murmurs, Junmyeon kissing him persistently between words, lips soft, warm and a little bit wet. Chanyeol laps at his cupids bow, gazing into his eyes. “I have something to show you, don’t I?”

As gracefully as he can, Chanyeol sinks to his knees.

Junmyeon’s eyes track his movement until his chin is bowed towards his chest. Only a light tremble runs through Chanyeol’s hands as he reaches for the button on Junmyeon’s jeans, popping it open and easing down the zipper. He cannot deny that his mouth is watering, thirsty to please his palate.

Junmyeon hums lowly when he lifts his hips, lending a hand because his jeans are incredibly tight around his hips. “Flaunting your ass?” Chanyeol teases with a grin, leaning into the touch of Junmyeon’s palm carding cleanly through his hair. His hands claw up Junmyeon’s thighs, feeling the firmness of his build beneath the denim. He wants to bite into them, bets they would feel nice wrapped around him.

 “Well, Jongin did tell me you were coming over.”

It makes him sweat – Junmyeon dressing up for him. Chanyeol can’t help but part his legs and seek friction from the floor. “Your efforts weren’t wasted,” he husks, slipping his fingers into the waistband of Junmyeon’s briefs and pulling back the elastic. His member immediately appears, growing, flushing. A twitch and he’s resting against his own stomach. Chanyeol can’t decide what he wants to kiss next, Junmyeon’s mouth or Junmyeon’s dick.

He wraps his hand around Junmyeon’s length, squeezing into the soft flesh until it’s pressing against the hardness beneath. It takes a second to comprehend that he’s holding Junmyeon’s cock, and then he’s stretching out his torso in a reach for Junmyeon’s mouth, groaning against his tongue with his hand down his trousers.

 “Fuck,” Chanyeol grunts, pulling back, and he dives down to lap at Junmyeon’s blushing head. He’s showy, head rocking with the meat in his mouth. Junmyeon clamps down on his scalp and moves with him, urging Chanyeol to take more, please him more. Chanyeol tenses his throat and gradually coats his length with his saliva, slickening it for the thrusts he wants to follow.

Hollowing his cheeks, he retreats several inches and focuses on the head again, tongue flat over his bottom teeth and massaging his frenulum until Junmyeon lets out a groan and shudders from sensitivity. His eyes leave pubes to monitor Junmyeon’s facial expression, finding him breathing harshly with his head tipped all the way back. It’s a gorgeous sight: the slender column of his neck arching beyond his crisp shirt collar. Every one of his swallows is punctuated with the sharp movement of his Adam’s apple, the frequency of which boosts Chanyeol’s confidence significantly; if Junmyeon didn’t have his mouth shut, he’d probably be drooling everywhere from how good this feels.

With his index and thumb positioned in a ring, Chanyeol runs his hand up Junmyeon’s cock and covers his head with his foreskin, swilling his tongue beneath it in circles that have Junmyeon staring at him helplessly with a slack jaw. His lips glisten and his eyebrows are tight in their furrow, a hint of disbelief twinkling in his eyes as they glaze over with desire.

 “Shit,” he hisses. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d sucked dick before.”

Chanyeol has to pull off to make room for a smile. Junmyeon has gotten bigger in the last minute or so, growing between his teeth, stretching him beyond what he’s taken before. As he licks up and down Junmyeon’s length, he repositions his aching knees, legs still obscenely spread apart so he can grind on the wooden flooring beneath them. Pleasure surprises him in waves, makes his eyes flutter and groans leak between his lips – groans that tremble down Junmyeon’s dick and stoke the embers in the pit of his stomach.

 “You’re so good,” whispers Junmyeon, pressing his thumbs into the corners of Chanyeol’s mouth, eyes tracing the movement of Chanyeol’s lips as they drag against his skin with every bob of his head. He’s wet now, almost down to the base. His length slides into Chanyeol’s mouth like a knife through butter, more and more of it until Chanyeol feels something ticklish against his nose and Junmyeon releases a strangled moan. “I’m gonna come,” he rasps out, to which Chanyeol makes a show of pulling off.

For a second, Junmyeon looks confused. Then, Chanyeol says: “I want you to fuck me.” He’s panting, voice cracking through a raw throat.

Junmyeon whimpers slightly, like that sentence alone is enough to bring him relief. Chanyeol can’t wait to see if that’s a green light for dirty talk.

 “But you aren’t ready—”

 “I am,” Chanyeol cuts in eagerly, leisurely pumping Junmyeon’s dick, hungry to see how big he is at full size.

Junmyeon’s face goes blank for a second while that information sinks in. Chanyeol just smirks, raising an eyebrow and softly kissing his tip. “I couldn’t waste this opportunity,” he murmurs, tongue swirling afterwards. “So long as you’ve got lube and stuff,” he looks up at Junmyeon with rounded eyes, “we’re good to go.”

 “Fuck,” Junmyeon utters, momentarily stunned. “ _Fuck._ ”

They head upstairs, passing obligatory family photos hanging on the wall ranging from Junmyeon as a baby to Junmyeon as a sexy college graduate. Chanyeol kind of can’t believe this is happening. They pass over the threshold to Junmyeon’s bedroom – minimalist with a theme of navy blues and whites – and latch onto each other again, almost desperate, to take things further.

All he can hear is his pounding heart and all he can feel is how sweaty he’s suddenly become. He’s sweating behind his knees and between his shoulders, so much so that he abruptly flings off his zip-up hoodie and cringes a second later at the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.  

The kiss they were sharing breaks, barely, and when Chanyeol’s eyes blearily open, it’s to Junmyeon smiling gloriously at him from less than a centimetre away; dazzling from a distance, blinding up close.

 “Was that something important?” Chanyeol whispers, biting his lower lip and then tantalisingly dragging it free from under his teeth.

Junmyeon’s hands tighten around his waist. His eyes drift to look over Chanyeol’s shoulder, long, feathered eyelashes shielding his irises, and he shakes his head. He blinks and raises his gaze. “Just an old mathletes trophy.”

Chanyeol snorts like a pig, torn between wanting to see the trophy in the flesh and keeping his eyes on Junmyeon. “Oh, you’re welcome then,” he jokes, laughing when Junmyeon suddenly tickles his armpits and whirls him around. He bounces when he hits the bed. Grins devilishly when Junmyeon stalks towards him, takes his face in his hands and kisses him senseless again.

 “You’re really good at this,” Chanyeol moans, clawing at the backs of Junmyeon’s thighs. Junmyeon slips his tongue into his mouth, tasting the softness of his lips. He’s certainly more the dominant type. The way he moves is precise, accurate, measured, like he’s writing an exam that he’s been studying for for months and now knows exactly what the answers are. When he starts easing his knees onto the bed one after the other, moving to straddle Chanyeol’s lap, Chanyeol starts to feel a little lost. He’s enjoying it. God, is he enjoying it. But he doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know that Junmyeon _wants_ him to do, and seeing as Junmyeon seems to have it all planned out, so sure of his next move, Chanyeol isn’t really certain where he fits in.

 “Lie back,” Junmyeon suggests, stroking through Chanyeol’s hair. He does as he’s told, delighted when Junmyeon lies beside him, resting on his elbow and gazing down at Chanyeol with soft, affectionate eyes that he probably doesn’t deserve. Chanyeol turns his head into him, feels the warmth of his body, smells his breath when it fans out across his face. It’s intimate. Quiet.

Junmyeon slips his thigh between Chanyeol’s legs and massages him gently through his jeans, slowly, lazily. A languid kiss follows, where Chanyeol wraps his arms around Junmyeon’s neck and rolls his hips up against the friction. In this room, in this position, he feels like a teenager with his first boyfriend, making out, touching above clothes, nervous and excited to do more. Junmyeon has slowed things down a little; maybe he could tell.

 “This is nice,” Chanyeol whispers between kisses, one of his hands now resting on Junmyeon’s ass.

Junmyeon cups the side of Chanyeol’s face, thigh stilling but pressing firmly against Chanyeol’s ever-growing bulge. “It is,” he agrees. “I can tell you’re loving it.” He references Chanyeol’s dick with the hitching of his leg.

Chanyeol hums in assent, raising into another kiss while his legs fall open. The way Junmyeon touches him has his body arching off the bed. He writhes into him, then pulls him back so that Junmyeon is on top, leaning down from above. Chanyeol takes the initiative to tug Junmyeon’s shirt over his head despite it being a button-up, sniggering a little when the collar gets caught on his ear and a few buttons ping across the room.

 “I liked that shirt.” Junmyeon’s bites Chanyeol’s ears in retaliation, his abrupt and fervent response surprising the both of them. Chanyeol moans unexpectedly, high pitched and broken, and shyly meets Junmyeon’s eyes when he pulls back from his hair, afraid for a moment that he might be laughed at, when Junmyeon starts grazing their lips together and whispering about how hot it was.

 “Yeah?” Chanyeol’s voice shakes.

Junmyeon nods faintly, rocking his hips down, making Chanyeol gasp. “I want you to do it again.”

 “Uh-huh?” Chanyeol’s body trembles from head to toe at the mental images that come along with Junmyeon’s statement. It grows impossibly hotter. When Chanyeol runs his fingers through his hair, it’s slick, greasy, would be his main focus at any other time but Junmyeon has his shirt gathered around his armpits and is kissing his way down his stomach.

His muscles clench and relax under Junmyeon’s lips, hips wriggling until Junmyeon pins them down. Chanyeol feels his dick twitch in his jeans because _fuck,_ that was hot, and moans ardently so Junmyeon knows just how much he’s enjoying it. Teeth bite into his skin. A tongue laves over his navel. Chanyeol’s underwear is gradually getting wetter. He’d better take them off.

Junmyeon, of course, is one step ahead.

Chanyeol watches with hooded eyes speared directly into Junmyeon’s gaze as his jeans are steadily drawn lower on his legs. Junmyeon’s tongue swipes across his lips, then the damp material of Chanyeol’s boxers, a wet, fleeting heat that sheaths Chanyeol in a shudder. Obediently, he bends at the knees when the denim reaches his lower thigh, wanting rid of his clothes.

When Junmyeon settles between his legs, a hand either side of his head, Chanyeol can’t help but think about what a nice picture this makes. His crush for the past ten years of his life admiring his body with eyes that worship, nestled in his embrace as Chanyeol locks him in his limbs and reels him in for a kiss. It’s exhilarating – kissing Junmyeon with reciprocated zeal. Maybe Junmyeon wants this just as much as he does.

 “Didn’t think I’d be doing this today,” Junmyeon utters, peeling back the waistband of Chanyeol’s boxers and tugging his dick free.

Wet kisses are slathered down his throat and further. He flashes Junmyeon a grin, eyes squinting. “Wasn’t I obvious enough at the party?”

 “Oh, no, you were _very_ obvious,” Junmyeon refutes with a chuckle, lips pressed against Chanyeol’s head, sending smug vibrations through his hips. “I think everyone knew what you were up to.” He licks a stripe over his slit before sucking him into his mouth.

Chanyeol’s breath catches and his eyes roll back. Deliriously, he tears off his t-shirt while Junmyeon suckles on the head of his cock and lies there limp and naked, ready for whatever Junmyeon is up for. The sensation drives him crazy. Junmyeon’s tongue is hot and skilled, his mouth a perfect fit for Chanyeol’s wide, impressive girth. The way his lips stretch is sinful yet delicious, and Chanyeol has no doubt that Junmyeon is hungrily lapping up the steady stream of pre-come he can’t help but release in the face of such a long-reigning fantasy.

 “Oh my god, please fuck me,” he groans, head tipping back, so close to coming already. He prays he won’t wake up in half an hour and realise that it’s all just been a wet dream. Junmyeon’s mouth feels too real and too godlike to be a figment of Chanyeol’s imagination, and judging by how incredible it is, his mind hasn’t been doing him justice at all. Chanyeol never expected it to be this heavenly.

 “I like this side of you,” Junmyeon purrs, now hooking Chanyeol’s boxers under his balls, holding him there on his tongue and warming his skin until it drives Chanyeol crazy. Junmyeon slurps his way free.

Chanyeol smirks, breathes heavily. “You like it when I beg?” His expression is wiped blank by Junmyeon languidly tracing his tongue over his skin, the touch delicate and teasing, making patterns all the way up the underside of his cock and then over his head. Chanyeol makes the effort to look down, meeting Junmyeon’s glassy eyes and flushed face. “Myeon-ah, please fuck me.”

He pouts.

In a tussle of movement, Chanyeol is face down on the bed. His underwear falls around his knees when he raises his hips in the air, displaying himself shamelessly to Junmyeon who bites his lip hungrily at the sight of the plug in his ass.

 “You really did get ready for me, huh?” he breathes. He’s halfway through taking off his joggers when he decides admiring Chanyeol is more important. “Fuck. How big is this?” He slides his fingers beneath the flared base and gives it a light tug. Chanyeol hisses, the fit tighter than he remembered it being, but he pushes his hips back all the same.

 “Almost two inches across,” he answers proudly. Junmyeon curses under his breath. It’s an impressive width to take, one Chanyeol achieved after almost an hour of building up from a single finger. He had a feeling Junmyeon would be big – and he hasn’t been disappointed.

 “Shit, baby, you’re fucking incredible.”

Chanyeol mewls, rolling his hips. Junmyeon’s heat gathers across his back, hot breath then steaming across his right ear.

 “Do you like it when I call you baby?” His dick presses into Chanyeol’s balls deliberately.

 “Yes,” Chanyeol moans, chuckling lightly because Junmyeon is everything he hoped he’d be and more. Chanyeol has an inkling that he’s about to have the fuck of his life.

He turns his head to the side and gives Junmyeon a dripping, coy gaze. A lick of his lips. A slow blink. He has Junmyeon wrapped around his little finger.

 “I’m gonna get some lube, and then I’m gonna fuck your ass. How does that sound?”

Chanyeol trembles, feels his dick weeping. “Yes, please.” It would have been so easy to tag a title onto the end of that.

Junmyeon leaves him, his joggers sliding to the ground when he’s stood up beside the bed. He crouches down to the bottom drawer beneath his desk and pulls out a white plastic bag, dipping his hand in and pulling it back with condoms and lube. Chanyeol sucks in a deep breath, crossing his arms beneath his cheek as he watches Junmyeon rip open the condom packet and roll it onto his length on the walk over. He pumps himself, paused, and Chanyeol arches his back so deeply that his stomach is almost touching the bed sheets.

 “You should see yourself right now,” Junmyeon muses, eyes raking over Chanyeol’s body. “How have you been under my nose for my whole life and I never thought to fuck you?”

Chanyeol moans softly at Junmyeon’s foul mouth, parting his knees ever further. “Guess you have a lot of making up to do.” Junmyeon prowls towards him again. “You might not even be able to do it all today.”

Junmyeon runs a hand through his hair. The muscles in his torso pull taut, a hint of abs pushing up from under his pale skin. His body is lean and toned. When he folds his arm just right, his biceps swell into mounds that could cut off Chanyeol’s air supply with a single flex. He wants to be fucked hard. Then slow. Then hard again. He wants to be fucked all day, into the night, until he’s so tired that he can barely keep his eyes open. Junmyeon’s cock, long, thick, red and proud, makes Chanyeol feel good just by looking at it. He preens at the thought of it being inside him, ploughing him open, making him gape. Junmyeon better not disappoint him.

 “I like the sound of that,” Junmyeon growls, climbing on the bed and taking Chanyeol by his love handles. His nails leave angry streaks over Chanyeol’s hips, leading his thumbs to where they dig into Chanyeol’s cheeks and pry them open. “Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth, Chanyeol watching from over his shoulder as he squeezes lube onto his fingers and warms it up a little. “Let’s see how wide you are.”

Chanyeol repositions his knees on the mattress for better grip, bracing himself as the cool slick of lube comes into contact with his skin. His bud clenches, then loosens around Junmyeon’s careful fingers. Whines leave his throat, hands fisting the pillow, as Junmyeon slowly starts to drag the plug out.

 “You’re sucking it back in, baby,” Junmyeon murmurs, enraptured. His eyes never leave Chanyeol’s ass as he stretches wider and wider around the bulb. Blood rushes away from Chanyeol’s head and he swallows hard, mouth still watering from the taste of Junmyeon’s cock. “Tell me if I need to stop, okay?” Junmyeon’s voice goes soft. Affectionate. Chanyeol looks at him and can’t breathe for a second.

 “I don’t want you to stop,” he whispers.

Junmyeon smiles lightly, leaning down to kiss Chanyeol’s shoulder blade. “I don’t want to hurt you either.”

Chanyeol pushes up on his hands, leaning back into Junmyeon’s body and angling his head just right over his shoulder to join their lips together. Chanyeol moans as Junmyeon massages the plug right into his prostate. His other hand wraps around Chanyeol’s waist, palm splaying over his heart, then his throat, just holding. Chanyeol has never felt safer.

 “Fuck me like this,” he says breathily, eyes open just a slither to view Junmyeon’s reaction. “And _god_ , when you talk like that…”

 “You like it?” Junmyeon smirks, pressing his hips forward, rutting between Chanyeol’s cheeks.

 “It’s turning me on so much,” he murmurs gently, honestly, so in the mood that it doesn’t even seem cringeworthy.

Junmyeon’s lips find his temple, a lustful smear of a kiss planted there. “Let’s plug you up with something else, hm?”

Chanyeol moans loudly in agreement, dropping back onto the mattress and stretching his arms above his head. He can smell the sweat in the sheets, Junmyeon’s fragrance spritzed across the pillow. The heat seeps through his body like lava cutting around rocks, filling him up until he’s desperate and needy, everything that Junmyeon appears to love. He feels like he’s dripping when Junmyeon gets back to the plug, easing it out with a strength that easily wins over the gluttony of Chanyeol’s own body. His toes curl and his shoulders tense, then he’s shivering from the draft and whining when Junmyeon gutturally swears once again.

 “Look at you,” he breathes, his wet fingers hooking behind Chanyeol’s rim and glossing him up. “Did you think of me while you fucked yourself?” he asks next, fingers gliding inside Chanyeol’s heat and getting a feel for how tight he is.

 “Mhmm.” Chanyeol rocks back against him, flaunting his hips, presenting himself.

 “I make you that horny? That’s a big plug, baby.” Four fingers, two from each hand, slip into his ass from either side and pull. Chanyeol sputters, body aquiver, as Junmyeon stretches him to new widths.

Chanyeol subconsciously parts his legs wider. “I knew you’d be big.”

 “Oh, yeah,” Junmyeon grunts, more fingers pushing inside. “Look how easy you take me. Are you ready?”

 “Please,” Chanyeol begs, raising himself on his elbows so he can watch Junmyeon as he sets things in motion.

Junmyeon rests back on his haunches, lube cupped in the palm of his hand before he slicks himself up and down, over and under his head. The condom looks like a tight fit. Chanyeol’s ass probably _also_  looks like a tight fit, but the burn will feel good. Chanyeol’s been waiting for this for almost his entire life. So along as Junmyeon’s dick gets inside him, nothing else matters.

 “You want this?” Junmyeon asks, smirking cockily and slapping his dick against his hole. Chanyeol clenches around air and nods, easing backwards in the hopes that Junmyeon will just slip in by mistake. “You want me to stretch you open?”

 “Yes,” Chanyeol nods, clawing at the sheets. “Fuck me ‘til I can’t walk. Please, Myeon-ah.”

Junmyeon inhales sharply, then lines himself up. “Come towards me, baby,” he says, caressing Chanyeol’s hips. “Take as much time as you need.”

 “You’re so confusing,” Chanyeol laughs breathlessly, setting his knees a little further down the bed and using them as leverage to impale himself on Junmyeon’s cock. “One second you’re dirty and the next you’re all… really nice.”

Junmyeon just smiles warmly, his bitten lip the only indication that Chanyeol is taking him to heaven. “I wouldn’t want you to think I don’t care,” he explains, voice low. “I mean, you’re gorgeous and I wouldn’t have any qualms with fucking you into tomorrow, but not unless you know that you’re more important than whatever my dick wants.”

Chanyeol pauses, somewhat taken aback, somewhat drowning in feelings that have been fluttering in the caverns of his stomach for at least a decade. He stares at Junmyeon, glowing golden with his sweaty tanned skin, and has a sudden realisation. This is the only guy he ever wants to share a bed with again.

In that split second, Chanyeol tries to imagine himself with others, having sex with anyone else, being spoken to like this by anyone other than Junmyeon, and he just can’t. He can’t, and he’s never been able to either. Because fuck. It’s Junmyeon. It’s always been Junmyeon.

 “Sorry if I killed the mood,” Junmyeon laughs nervously, thumbs digging into the small of Chanyeol’s back and massaging his muscles from tense to tranquil. He gnaws at his lip now, worry creasing his brow, and Chanyeol realises that he should probably say something to put him out of his anxiety.

 “No!” he cries, then, “No,” a little softer. “I really appreciate it, actually. You’re really… just… amazing. Really amazing and I…” he trails off, wondering if he’s in his right mind seeing as he’s intent on blabbering about his pent-up emotions with a dick halfway up his ass.

 “You…?” Junmyeon accidentally edges forwards when he speaks. Chanyeol’s head drops against the pillow.

 “I just… really like you,” he admits shakily, sliding down until he can feel Junmyeon’s hips and the cool sweat gathered on his hairs against his ass. “Fuck. Myeon you feel so good.”

Junmyeon groans huskily and his fingers bruise Chanyeol’s hips. “You like me?” He’s turned his voice back on, the one that Chanyeol is now going to refer to as the _deep daddy voice,_ and Chanyeol whimpers, nodding helplessly, utterly bewitched. “I like you too,” he says, breathes, next to Chanyeol’s ear, and Chanyeol immediately threads his hands through Junmyeon’s hair and pulls him down for a kiss.

He’s so full, stretched more than any plug could stretch him. When he clenches around Junmyeon, buried inside him, he can feel himself oozing, and finally, Junmyeon starts to move his hips, merciless and rough and exactly what Chanyeol was after.

 “You’re making such a mess, baby,” Junmyeon grunts, fucking into Chanyeol with a sharp, quick rhythm that leaves nothing to be desired. The swing of his hips is so forceful that the bed frame begins to knock against the wall, the noises sounding out in time with Chanyeol’s high-strung moans. “When was the last time someone fucked you like this?”

Chanyeol tries to catch his breath before he replies, scrambling to wet his tongue in a mouth now dry from panting like he’s lost a lung. “N-Never.” And it’s the truth. They’ve only been going for a couple of minutes and Junmyeon is already better than everyone else he’s been with, and not just because he’s Junmyeon. His fat cock is rubbing him up in all the right places, coursing smoothly over his prostate with every calculated thrust. Chanyeol would love Junmyeon to lose his pace, though. To turn animalistic and feed his own greed, simply take the pleasure he seeks from Chanyeol’s body without a second thought.

He cries out when Junmyeon pounds him deeper. His knees slide apart against his control, thigh muscles straining to keep himself upright, and on occasion he breathes so deeply that his stomach touches the bed beneath him.

Junmyeon has one hand on his hip and the other on his shoulder, using the both of them to force Chanyeol back onto his cock with a grip that is almost punishing, and would be if not for the sweat making it slip. He’s dripping, his hair is soaked, and it’s either his sweat now dampening the sheet beneath him or the drool from his open mouth, Junmyeon fucking everything open even when he’s not in direct contact with it.

Chanyeol flings a hand back and helps spread his ass cheeks open, looking back through blurry eyes at Junmyeon disappearing inside him over and over again; the angle isn’t great and he has more ass that he’s given himself credit for, but seeing the plunge at the same time as _feeling_  the plunge makes everything ten times more intense.

He moans out useless rambling, telling Junmyeon to fuck him and do it harder. He can’t remember the last time he lost himself like this, and can’t remember the last time he trusted someone else so much to do it. He would ask Junmyeon to kiss him but he can’t control his body any longer. Upon one harsh thrust, where the bed frame bangs into the wall, his knees buckle and he flattens out against the mattress, crushed by Junmyeon’s domineering jack-hammering as he carries on relentless.

 “F-Fuck,” he cries, strangled by his own ecstasy, and shoots his other hand back to grab Junmyeon’s wrist. His legs are spread so wide that his muscles feel like they’re tearing, the tingles of numbness creeping up from his toes to his knees until he slaps Junmyeon lightly on the wrist and uses his moment of suspension to reposition himself. He flips onto his left hip, stretching one leg out and hoisting the other one up, bent towards his chest. He hopes it’ll be one of many positions to come, but he wouldn’t mind finishing the round like this.

Junmyeon pushes himself back in with ease, Chanyeol’s hole so well fucked that all he can feel is the hot glide of hard flesh against his own.

 “You look so good,” Junmyeon whispers, planting fists either side of Chanyeol’s head and swinging his hips back and forth, gathering speed until he’s violently slamming against the backs of Chanyeol’s thighs, smacking them pink. “Your body won’t let me leave. Can you feel how you’re sucking me in?”

 “Yes, yes,” Chanyeol whimpers immediately. “It feels so good. You’re gonna make me come.”

The sweat on Junmyeon’s brow glistens just as brightly as his teeth do when he gifts Chanyeol a broad smirk. “Are you going to come all over yourself for me?” he rasps, lowering himself onto his elbows and crowding into his space. Chanyeol’s everything is on show, exposed for front seat viewing; Chanyeol has never felt more wrecked in his life. “You going to come on my cock?”

 “Yes,” he chokes, their lips close but not touching. His breaths rush in and out, mind foggy, already light-headed. “You—You have no idea how h-hard I’m going to come.”

Junmyeon seizes his lips for a second, hot, breathy contact that leaves him wanting. “Show me. Show me and I’ll come in your ass.”

 “Come inside me,” Chanyeol pleads, the prospect, however unrealistic with the condom in the way, hurtling him closer to the edge. His hooded eyes lock onto Junmyeon’s, his gritted teeth displaying the exertion and the power he possesses, fucking Chanyeol so surely and consistently that Chanyeol wonders how the fuck he _doesn’t_  have prominent abs. He’s a machine. A fucking god, literally.

Junmyeon watches him intently, through him scrunching his face up, his lips splitting with a piercing gasp, then his eyes rolling back. Every one of Chanyeol’s muscles, no matter how big or how small, goes limp, lifeless against the bed, his body merely drifting in the pleasure as it mounts, and mounts, then draws in tight—

And bursts.

The intensity sky rockets, explodes, splinters through his skin. His body jerks in Junmyeon’s arms as he rides out the static, jolts, jumps and jostles until his end simmers down to tiny shocks that rattle him from head to toe. He can feel himself pulsing, drawing Junmyeon in deeper as his dick squirts thick ribbons of white. At the end, Junmyeon fucks into him again, and Chanyeol’s vision fades a little at the prolonged sensations until Junmyeon is coming too.

It leaves him dazed, like time has slowed down and he’s floating through cloud nine. He watches Junmyeon’s face crumple and release, and from somewhere he finds the strength to wraps him up in his arms, kissing the side of his head when it collapses against his chest. He hums, a loose sound that never really had permission to leave but snuck out anyway, and combs idly through Junmyeon’s hair, swearing he can feel lube.  

 “You should stay inside,” Chanyeol whispers, the room silent save for the storming rain against the window and his own thundering heart. “Get hard again and fuck me some more.”

Junmyeon groans when he raises his head, looking a little lost for a second and blinking in quick succession before he can focus on anything properly. He finds Chanyeol’s eyes, smiles softly, and leans down to give him a kiss, something ridiculously innocent compared to the dirty talk they were just hurling at one another.

 “It would be my pleasure,” he says, licking into Chanyeol’s mouth. “I really don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”  

 “Fuck,” Chanyeol curses in relief, “me neither. Please fuck me and only me until one of us dies.” The sentiment is serious, the words not so much, and Chanyeol is extra relieved when it makes Junmyeon laugh.

 “What’s this, huh?” He smirks, voice teasing. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Chanyeol bites his lip and smiles shyly, worried for a second that Junmyeon might be mocking him. “I mean,” he begins, trailing off when he thinks about all the dates that have gone before, the majority ending on bad terms. _I think we’d be better as friends. I don’t think this is going to work_. “I’ll probably get annoying and frustrating at some point because I fuck up a lot, but yeah, I’d really love to take you out.”

Junmyeon kisses him, the pressure locking Chanyeol’s head in place against the pillow. “As if I could ever find you annoying.” He clucks his tongue, shaking his head and smiling. “But if you ever frustrate me, I guess I’ll just have to punish you.”

Chanyeol grins excitedly, eyes twinkling with desire. A million date ideas run through his mind in an instant, seasons passing, celebrating holidays. God, he wants it all. “Yes, sir.” And he makes Junmyeon laugh again. A magical sound, really. “What are we gonna do about Jongin?”

 “I wouldn’t worry about him.” Junmyeon shrugs, resting on one elbow and looking down at Chanyeol fondly. “I don’t think he’d mind anyway.”

 “And if he does mind?” Chanyeol gnaws his lip anxiously; the prospect of losing Jongin as his best friend is highly unwelcome.  

Junmyeon caresses the side of his face and Chanyeol’s heart speeds up instantly. “We can talk to him about it when he gets back, yeah? Together?”

Despite being breathless, Chanyeol manages to nod and say, “Yeah, okay,” before sighing happily into another kiss. He wants it to last for hours, but Junmyeon pulls back and offers to clean the both of them up before they go again. Chanyeol refuses. He wants proof of how much Junmyeon can make him come by the time they’re finished. He does, however, let Junmyeon change into a new condom, and while he lies down on the bed, back aching but comforted, body burning but sated, he gazes out the window at the rain and the green grass of the garden, mouth dropping open when he sees something distinctly pink hanging on the washing line.

*

 “Look who’s come back home!” Chanyeol exclaims, bursting through Misun’s bedroom door with a freshly-washed Sparkles in his hands. It was somewhat heart-wrenching watching him spinning around and around in the washing machine at Junmyeon’s place, but it had to be done. He stank of rain and dirt and sort of like puke. Sparkles has seen some shit he probably never wanted to see.

 “Sparkles!” Misun cries joyously, bouncing up from the floor and reaching her arms out to grab her teddy bear. “Why do you like Chanyeol more than me?” She swamps her toy in a hug, squashing it between her cheek and her collarbone. “But it’s okay. I forgive you.” Kissing him on both ears, she then turns to Chanyeol. “Thank you for bringing him back.”

Chanyeol shrugs, crouching down to admire her train track – a construction that spans the majority of her floor, even under her bed. “No problem! He was getting bored of me anyway. He said I’m not nearly as fun as you are.” He bops her on the nose and revels in her laughter. “What have we got going on here?”

 “My trains! But I’m about to add cars.” Determinedly, she pulls a plastic box out from her wardrobe and opens it to reveal yet more toys to add to her awesome display. Chanyeol chuckles and makes himself comfortable, playing with her until they’re called down for dinner.

His phone buzzes on the sofa arm as he digs into pizza, the kids channel playing on TV and Yoora moaning to their mum in the kitchen that the family never makes an effort when she comes over. Chanyeol guesses she wanted taking out to a five-star restaurant; her visits are just _so_  elusive and obviously special events. They have a celebrity in the house.

 “This just in: Yoora is self-conceited!” Chanyeol teases, shouting across the house.

Yoora’s angry speech cuts off for a second, then: “ _Go frog yourself, Chanyeol_!”

Chanyeol snorts to himself, unlocking his phone with his food-free hand and opening a new text from Junmyeon.

 **Junmyeon:** You left something here. You’d better come and get it.

He frowns, momentarily distracted when Misun asks him what _go frog yourself_ means. Quickly, he taps out a reply, mind racing over the past few days of bliss and wondering what on earth he could have left behind other than a bad smell and several bodily fluids.

 **Chanyeol:** What did I leave behind?

 “It’s nothing,” Chanyeol tells Misun with a wide smile. “Yoora’s just jealous because I’m your favourite sibling.”

Misun giggles happily, squealing with laughter when Yoora marches into the room and demands to know if that’s the truth, then tickling her as punishment. They roll around the floor like children, careless of the pizza that’s now face-down on the carpet.

Chanyeol’s eyes shift from his squabbling sisters to his phone. His heart, already thumping steadily because this is Junmyeon he’s talking to, skips a beat.

 **Junmyeon:** Your boyfriend :3

 

**Author's Note:**

> **Please note that I do not want constructive criticism. Please do not share negative opinions or thoughts about this story in the comments, in bookmarks or on Twitter. Thank you :)**


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